Dramarama
by The O.C.-oholic
Summary: [futurefic] “And if it was you in that situation you would've done the same thing as me. You would've let Marissa drag you into her mansion, you would've started kissing her, and you would've slept with her.” RM, SS.
1. Prologue

**For all my loyal readers/reviewers. You know who you are ;) Love you all.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "The O.C." or anything in the show. However, I am planning to steal the show. **

**A/N: **Heyyy people. This is my first fanfic _which isn't dark_! Isn't that amazing. Please tell me what you thought after you read. This chapter's just a kind of intro...it gets more dramatic and funnier. And obviously it's about 'The Fantastic Four'.

* * *

"Good morning, bitch." I say coldly as I jump out of the limousine after thanking the chauffeur. I pull off my 2000 dollar sunglasses and glare at her. She only smiles sweetly and pats her fucking Chihuahua in her arms. The dog sneers at me and I feel my eyes flash with anger and irritation. She's wearing a halter-neck, a leather mini mini-skirt and knee-high boots. A skank isn't she? I grit my teeth in frustration.

"How's Ryan?" she asks with that annoying smile of hers. Wouldn't people normally say, "How are you?" instead of asking about someone totally different? Even celebs need manners. But she doesn't understand. A smile sweeps across my face.

"He's still wondering why you signed the divorce papers." I say.

I am Summer Roberts, the beautiful supermodel in Hollywood. I am proud to introduce you to my enemy:

Marissa Cooper.

I know. 'What about The Fantastic Four?' Leave that shit alone, will you? This is four fucking years after graduation day, hello? Don't stick to the 'The Fantastic Four' thing anymore. It's making me sick. Another word of that and I am going to _scream_.

Coop carries a Chihuahua around with her. I mean _seriously_. Get real. A pet _Chihuahua_. How could it get any worse? It can. Have I ever told you that Marissa Cooper married Chino except she signed the divorce papers after 6 months of marriage? She used him. She only married him to gain more fame—Chino was like, the No.1 actor. It was like, Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. Coop's plan worked. Then she totally dumped him. No one knows why she suddenly did that though. She better have a good reason.

Many people say, "Being a celebrity changes you completely," But that's only half right. See, I'm a supermodel. I haven't changed, except the fact that I live with Chino. I know. It sounds completely ballistic, right? But I have a good reason. Well, it started with Chino being an actor. Then Cohen wanted to be famous too and I was doing a bit of modeling so we both went to Hollywood. We couldn't afford a mansion, so Chino let us stay with him in _his_.

Now Cohen and I are rich and famous. Rich and famous enough to buy a mansion. Did we ever tell you that we're awfully lazy? Well, we are. We haven't moved out yet.

Poor Chino. He's listed No.1 in _The Hottest Stars Under 25: Bachelors_. He said he'll never date anybody again and he'll never talk to Coop.

Marissa Cooper is...evil. She parties until she's passed out on the couch, she drinks, she flirts with like, every single guy in the world and of course, she has a pet Chihuahua called Belle. Do you see how much she's changed? Do you see it?

She used to be:

_Caring, kind, pretty._

But now she's:

_Annoying, slutty, bitchy._

She's detached herself from us. She ignores us now...well, I kinda ignore her too. Only a miracle can bring us back together. And it better be a damn good miracle. It's not like I'm jealous. It's not like I'm pissed at her 'cause she is like, totally famous. It's not like I'm angry inside because all the guys like her more than me. It's just that she's changed. I like the old Coop better.

Other than Coop, my life here is great. Modeling's heaps good, I receive a lot of fan letters, I get invited to cool parties, and everything's fine. I have a black pet cat...I know, you never expected that, did you? The cat's called Matthew Flinders. 'Why Matthew Flinders?' Well, my favorite book right now is _Matthew Flinders' Cat _(It's actually Chino's book). That's why. Matt used to be a stray cat until I took him home. How nice am I. That was a statement more than a question.

"So he's still wondering why I dumped him?" I hear Coop's voice and I snap back to reality.

"Oh, yeah." I say quickly and nod my head hastily several times. I'm at this studio thing...I got asked if I can star in a movie a little bit...and guess what? Coop is my co-star. Wonderful. Sure thing, I get to look at her fucking puppy and fantasize about it getting pulverized and mashed by a machine shaped like my cat. Wouldn't that be R-A-D? Yes it would. I'll ask Cohen to draw a picture of it—he's awesome at drawing comics. While I fantasize about Coop's Chihuahua getting smashed and pulverized, Coop's probably fantasizing about sex. That's funny if you think of it though. Maybe not. But seriously it's funny.

I grimace. Coop's wearing that perfume again. GUCCI—Envy Me. Seriously. She always wears it. She smells like a baby prostitute. I have to smell this pungent stuff all day today. Somebody please kill me before I grimace myself to death.

Well, I'm wearing Ralph Cool. Anyway, not like you're interested in what perfume I wear or anything. Or Coop's. I'm sure you all know how it feels like having your enemy by your side. I'm sure you all know how it feels like fantasizing about your enemy being like, shot or something. That'd be cool. Actually, it would be FUNKY FUNKY FUNKY! Funkier than anything in the world.

Cohen is directing. I hope Coop got the part for 'The Baby Prostitute'. Nah, there's actually no 'The Baby Prostitute' part. Don't worry. Your beloved Marissa will be safe. She will be acting as the main character that'll be the damn heroin for this...movie as you call it.

Puh-leaz. Why is Marissa Cooper so famous when all she does is strut around feeling self-conscious? I'll have to find out why one day. It's not like she can act or anything. Everyone likes her no matter what she does. It's like, 'Oh, my god. Marissa cooper has _such_ a style!' I hear fucking teenagers (mind _you_, they have a 'Marissa Cooper' haircut.) saying that. Correction! They should be saying, 'Oh, my god. Summer Roberts has _such_ a great style!' Duh. It should be every girl's dream to have my body. I kick ass!

* * *

Gee, what's the problem with Sum? I mean, she's glaring at Belle and grimacing. Seriously. I know I've changed but have I become _that_ bad? What's become of Seth, Ryan and Summer? They all hate me. All abandoned me as if I was a piece of shit. What, I'm too pretty? God. Ever since then I have no real friends. My world's turned upside-down.

I know I've done something extremely dumb and bad but you can't change the past. You've gotta leave that behind and think of your future. Okay I just sounded lame just then.

From now on I have to meet Sum everyday...for half a month. Wow. That's just great, isn't it? I also have Seth directing the movie I'm gonna star in. Which is...double trouble. Throw Ryan in and it'll be_ triple_ trouble.

How's my life? Well...it's good. I have a huge mansion and I live by myself. I've got a chauffeur (and a pink limo), a butler, a maiden, 3 gardeners (and no, I am not having sex with any of them, don't worry), a chef, an agent, a nanny, a lawyer, 2 stylists, a manager, an assistant, a driver and a jet, a trainer, a coach and a bodyguard of 5. I'm still single. I've been like that since I broke up with Ryan. I'm single and I'm looking.

I hear Seth telling us that filming will be on nearly everyday for the next 6 months. It's my first time to be in one of Seth's movies. Quite exciting if you come to think of it.

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How was it? By the way, it gets better. Please review and tell me what you think—I know how many of you have read this (all thanks to for making the _Hits_ page, lol)! It only takes about 30 seconds - 1 minute to review, right? ;) Cute R/M action next.


	2. Ooops!

**Disclaimer: I don't own "The O.C." but I do own the characters in this fic. And this Ryan has the season 1 hairstyle and that hairstyle's mine :P**

**A/N:** I know my update is extremely late, but I'm gonna make it up to you people with a good, long chappie. Just so everyone knows, this fic isn't a "Kill Marissa Cooper" one. Don't worry, it's more of a "The Gang getting back together" one.

Chapter 2... Enjoy reading!

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My life without Marissa is great, as far as I know. We barely talk, our eyes barely meet and we barely know each other now. She's completely a different person. Well, I _was_ a little depressed after she dumped me, and I started smoking again. But then Summer caught me and she burnt the cigarette butt on my arm. It hurt; I still have a small burn from it. Then I quit. Okay maybe I didn't. I kept smoking behind her back, but that annoying cat Matthew Flinders kept dobbing me in (not _literally_).

**"My beautiful lungs will get like, eww. Gross! Black gooey stuff which stinks and everything. Didn't you know that you're also harming the people around you?"**

That's all she said, I mean, shouted. After that I quit (again). Summer's just plain scary. No one _really_ knows her. Everyone just thinks she's a sweet, beautiful model. That's so wrong. She's actually Satan's wife. Very scary.

Right now, Summer is so mad at Marissa that you can feel her hatred from miles away. Seth doesn't really care about Marissa (he never _was_ her best friend, anyway) and he barely talks about her. Me? Well I'm in-between Summer and Seth.

The damn lie detectors and those dumb TV shows. Guess who I am? I'm one of this week's guest stars on _Guess Who_. And guess who the other guest star is. Marissa Cooper.

Perfect.

And now all these cameras and TV announcer people are watching me stand here hopelessly—trying to think up questions, and also trying not to look at the person in front of me. Life is just unfair. And guess who I have next to me? A damn lie detector. Fine, you might be thinking, "There's no such thing as a lie detector, you ass." But it's true. I asked test questions like, "Are you a virgin?" Marissa said "No." and the needle pointed to TRUTH. So there. Triumph for Atwood.

I have 10 questions to ask Marissa and find out who she has a crush on...then I win 5000 dollars. And I want my money for appearing on an embarrassing show like this one.

Besides...I already know who she likes. She likes her co-star person—well I forgot his name but it started with a 'C' for sure. And no I don't remember any celebrity names unless he or she is my friend, because learning damn names wastes my megabytes.

First I have to check if she even likes anyone.

"Do you have a crush on someone?" I ask Marissa—who has wires from the detector stuck to her arms. Fine, "crush" is a lame word used by 13 year olds but who cares. I _am_ lame. And also camera shy.

"Yes." The needle points to TRUTH. Just as I thought. Now where's my money?

"Does his name start with a 'C'?" I ask again. I'm sure she'll say "Yes." 'cause I know that'll be the answer.

"Sometimes." I hear Marissa answer, and she smiles with that lovely smile of hers. The needle points to TRUTH again. What the hell? That's not the answer I expected. I'll try again. Anything to get the 5000 dollars. Just imagine what I could do with the money. I could buy another cat for Summer and give the rest of the money to Seth.

"How come you said "Sometimes" when you're only allowed to say "Yes" or "No"?" I say, slightly annoyed.

"And you just wasted a question."

Harhar. Very, very funny. The crowd people laugh slightly. No it's not funny, not funny you jerky people! Are you laughing _at_ me or laughing _with_ me? Or are you people just laughing at my stupidity? Everyone makes a mistake some time in their life, right? And so I get back to the plot.

"Does he have brown hair?"The 'C' person has brown hair. Saw it in an ad once. This time she will say "Yes." for sure. I know it. I hear a "No." For the third time the needle points to TRUTH. This fucking machine must be broken or something. I have 6 questions left to figure everything out.

"Does he have hazel eyes?"

"No." TRUTH.

"Green?"

"No." TRUTH.

"Brown?"

"No." TRUTH.

3 questions left. I can see the pile of money floating away. Okay, so the guy doesn't have brown hair. But there are thousands of colors in the world! He could have turquoise colored hair for all I know. He doesn't have green, hazel or brown eyes. But he could be an albino with red eyes. And his name "sometimes" starts with a 'C'. What does she mean by "sometimes"?

**"Chino, get off the couch, you lazy ass!"**

Okay I just remembered Summer and her favorite line to use on me when I'm on the couch. 'C' for Chino. Maybe my name starts with a 'C'. Sometimes. But it can't be me, right?

It _was_ risky, but I did it anyway. "Does he have blue eyes?"

I could see the tips of Marissa's ears turning pink. "Yes." The needle points to TRUTH. The pile of money is coming closer by the second, I mean, question.

"Blond hair?"

Turning redder. "Yes." TRUTH.

Blue eyes, blond hair...the only male celebrity I could think of with those features...is me. "Is he the delinquent from Chino?" I ask the last question of all

questions.

Marissa's so embarrassed she can barely speak. "_Was_," she corrected. "And he's going home today with 5000 dollars."

* * *

"Hey Natasha! How's biz going hun?" I hear Summer ask her model-friend. Summer only has model-friends. Right now we're at this random cocktail party full of beautiful models. It makes me really uncomfortable, since I don't really know what they're talking about. Modeling, modeling, modeling. That's all they talk about.

Seth and I are wearing this stupid suit-y stuff (which I don't like) and Summer's wearing this expensive looking dress. Well, it _is_ a cocktail party. Most models now don't party hard and they like the "quiet" parties so that they can show off their, uh, beautiful-ness, I guess.

"Did you know Tash...that Marissa Cooper slept with a girl? This girl called Alex. When she was 17." Summer starts gossiping.

Natasha begins talking like a sassy. "Sum, you're so dumb, girls can't physically have sex. It's impossible. You know that girls don't have—"

"Did you ever know your best friend, Summer? 'Cause you sound like you don't know what you're talking about." Natasha got cut-off by...the one and only, Marissa Cooper. "Thanks for talking shit about me behind my back."

"Anytime hun," comes the reply, right from Summer's lips.

Okay why the fuck is she here? I_ really _can't stand her. I just found out that Marissa has a crush on me...so how could I face her? I went to this damn party to avoid Marissa and here she comes, waltzing into this party without any trouble. I walk away from them quietly over to Seth who's drinking wine.

"M-Marissa's here." I whisper to Seth.

"Oh really? Then it's just another one of those chances to start making out or...start making out," Seth shrugs. "You know that every time we go somewhere Marissa's not far behind..."

Yes. Very true indeedy.

"I know...but why is she here? It's a party for models." I say.

"She might've been invited by her friend who's a model," Seth says slowly, as if thnking. "In our case, we tagged along with Summer so...yeah."

Seth isn't helping anything. _Never_ count on Seth. _Not_ a helper. Shivers shoot up my spine as I notice Marissa glancing my way. I quickly hide behind Seth.

"Marissa's coming this way," whispers Seth. " so you better get ready!" Very true. She is coming this way. But instead of striking up a chat with Seth she grabs a wine glass filled with red wine and struts over to Summer who's gossiping with Natasha. I think I know what's gonna happen. Uh-oh.

"Ooops!"

I knew it.

"Oh, my god. Don't you know that this dress costs like, 2000 dollars?" Summer screams, pointing to the red stain on her white dress. "I mean eww. Who's gonna pay for the dry cleaning, bitch?"

"I am so sorry," Seth and I look at Marissa who was apologizing. Well, _fake_ apologizing, actually. "The wine glass slipped out of my hand_. Accidentally_." I know she added the last part.

Summer starts shaking furiously. "You know when you said, "Did you ever know your best friend, Summer?"? Well I did. But you know what? You're not Marissa Cooper. The Marissa Cooper I knew changed into a cheap whore! Maybe DNA's the problem here." I look at Seth fighting back a fit of giggles.

"C'mon Cohen, we're going home...I need to get changed."

Seth rolls his eyes follows Summer out the door of the mansion. Which means, Seth leaving, which means, Marissa has a clear view of me. Which is not good. All these beautiful blondes gather around Marissa and cheers her up a bit. And then a moment later she begins walking elegantly over to me.

Which means...

* * *

I tip-toe into the house, just so Summer and Seth won't find me in here. I look terrible. I creep into the huge lounge room and just when I'm about to boof onto the sofa, the lights turn on, and Seth waltzes into the room half-asleep.

"You look tired, Ryan," he says droopily. Then he gets stuck in a fit of giggles. I collapse onto the sofa and breathe out a deep sigh, then close my eyes. I twitch just as I hear Summer's sharp voice.

"Eww...what the hell is that smell...?" Summer comes in grimacing. "It smells like GUCCI—Envy Me. Cohen, did you drag Coop into the house or what." She asks, well, more of a statement than a question. I watch her sit down on the sofa next to me.

"Ryan smells like a prostitute..." Seth says before he starts giggling again, louder this time. Summer glares at me. "And he has lipstick on his neck..." he adds.

"Wallet," Summer snaps, and shoots her hand out in front of me, palm up. I hesitate. "Wallet," she says louder this time, and colder. I _told_ you she's Satan's wife. _FINE_. I give her my wallet and cross my arms over my chest for that brooding look. Summer opens it and starts searching for something—just as I thought. Then suddenly she gasps.

"Chino, where's your emergency condom?" she chokes out. Just as I thought. I knew I should've come in from the back door. I glare back at her. "Don't give me 'The Look' young man," she says, half scolding and half joking. "You should be ashamed of yourself...going out at night and making a girl pregnant...actually, it could be girls," Now that is such a dumb joke.

I sigh. "How do you know I slept with someone?" I say.

"I do because I do. If you didn't realize Chino...you smell like perfume. And it's no ordinary perfume. It's _Coop'_s favorite perfume. And you smell like her now. And besides...you have lipstick on your neck and your shirt buttons are like, snapped off and your emergency condom is gone—" she suddenly goes white in the face. "Oh, my god. You slept with Coop?" she shouts. Now Seth's laughing harder. What's so funny about this?

"I mean, you slept with a chick who is like, the total bitch who actually dumped you and everything just so she can get famous like the Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise divorce with the 'The wife is a bitch' part and you forgave her just because she's hot with the model of her in The House Of Wax thing?" Summer says in one breath.

"I didn't forgive her." I say grumpily.

"Man...I love Ryan when he's grumpy. It's incredibly funny!" Seth squeals. He must be drunk _and _sleppy, because he's not functioning.

"No, Chino's best when he's drunk, you ass," says Summer in a matter-of-factly way. "Hey Cohen, do you still remember when we went to that karaoke bar and Chino got wasted and he sang 'Like a Virgin'? Wasn't that like, so funny?" Actually it was really, really funny.

Seth starts roaring with laughter. "That was really funny!" he exclaims. "And that time when he was making snow angels on the beach after drinking too much? That was funny too."

I sigh again. "I'm tired..." I say, just like a kid who came home from daycare.

"Then go to sleep hun...but it's already 5 in the morning." Summer mumbles. "Oh my god, remember when Chino said, 'I swear to drunk I'm not God!'?"

I sigh for the millionth time and walk upstairs to my bedroom, ignoring Seth and Summer laughing their asses off downstairs. Laughing at _me_. Laughing at me and my drunkenness. I flop down onto the bed and then my mind starts wondering.

I can sleep with whomever I wanted, right? So it's not weird if I slept with Marissa. Okay maybe it is. But it wasn't my fault. It was _Guess Who'_s fault. They shouldn't have put us together with those lie detector things. Actually it's Marissa's fault for dragging me into her bedroom. No, none of it was my fault. Okay maybe a tiny bit. _Really_ tiny. But after that party you don't know how weird I was.

I actually _wanted_ Marissa.

Don't laugh. It wasn't my fault, like I said. And if it was you in that situation you would've done the same thing as me. You would've let Marissa drag you into her mansion, you would've started kissing her, and you would've slept with her. The only reason that it's my fault only a tiny bit is because if I didn't start kissing her, maybe she would've kept her clothes on. But hey. No one can change the past.

Besides, this isn't an extreme problem. I could just say to myself that I was stupid at that time and it was only a "one night's stand" as you people call it. No need to sweat. Marissa can go off and try and find another hot guy or something, instead of me. And I can get back to being a bachelor. It's all easy. No problemo.

All I can say now is: I'm tired. I don't have filming tomorrow anyway so I can rest all I want. Without thinking of Marissa. And I'm not gonna step outside of this mansion 'cause all the reporters will be asking shit like, "You really slept with Marissa?" and all these questions related to her because she spilled everything out to the public. Anyway I'll deny all that. Just like stars need to do sometimes.

* * *

Okay sry it wasn't that long but it took me 3 days to write this. So...anyway, please review if you read it, because I only type when I feel like it and reviews put me in the right mood. Suggestions are always welcome, though I have everything planned out from 0 - 10 :) Next chapter will be told from Marissa's point of view.


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